A New Beginning
by tinyrobotlover
Summary: TFP- Megatron is left to wander the newly rejuvenated Cybertron with only the ghosts of his past to keep him company when a message from an old friend brings to light the scheme of an ancient enemy to destroy the Cybertronian race. Can Megatron convince the Autobots to trust him? Or is any hope of redemption truly lost to him...
1. Chapter 1

Once, a long, long time ago, Megatron had a friend named Orion Pax. Brothers, they called each other. Their hopes and dreams for a free Cybertron were the same, or so they had started. Orion had considered Megatron his closest friend. Megatron had felt the same toward the librarian.

They spoke often of their political stands, more-so of their personal lives and the differences and commonalities between them. But often, when discussing philosophy with words of mouth, the simplest of looks would spark a light-hearted, unspoken conversation of seemingly meaningless things.

These were the conversations the ex-gladiator had cherished most. The conversations Megatron had secretly wished he could have again.

Now he stood atop the wreckage of a downed warship in the Badlands, deep frown etched on his face, remembering his last moments with the late Optimus Prime.

Megatron had expressed his desire to be tyrant king no more and in that final glance at the Autobot leader, Megatron had his last unspoken conversation...

_You've changed?_

_Don't look so surprised, librarian. You saw this side of me long before the war started._

_I had hoped to see it long after the end._

_You will sacrifice yourself?_

_It is the only way, Megatron._

_I will not forget, Optimus. Not again._

_Farewell... Brother._

Megatron left that day. He knew not where he would go or if he would ever again find a place where he could belong. He avoided any contact with other Cybertronians, a nearly impossible task with the Well of Allsparks constantly spewing new life.

Only once had he returned to the Nemesis, for the sake of stopping the constant pinging at the back of his mind. After some digging he found Soundwave trapped in a pocket dimension in the control room. Apparently the spymaster had found a way to send his master a distress call.

Upon freeing the half starved TIC he gave Soundwave the choice of leaving the Nemesis, never to cause chaos for anyone ever again, or turning himself in to the Autobots for sentencing of his crimes.

Megatron left, undiscovered and unnoticed by the Autobots, with Soundwave at his heels.

Megatron told Soundwave to depart, but still he was followed. He tried to shake his long time follower, but could not. During one flight he transformed mid-air, fell to the ground and turned to look the slender mech in the face, optics burning in annoyance.

"Soundwave, the Decepticons are no more. You are no longer obligated to follow me."

Soundwave stared back at Megatron for several long seconds. "No longer obligated," he echoed back.

Megatron glared at him, half annoyed and half confused. He decided to very calmly walk away. When he glanced over his shoulder he saw that Soundwave still followed a few paces behind.

Megatron spun around to glare at the spy. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"No longer obligated."

A pause. Soundwave stepped to Megatron's side, ready to follow. As a friend.

Megatron smiled. "Thank you, Soundwave."

After a few more days of aimless wandering, Megatron encouraged Soundwave to go and see the Well of Allsparks since he was obviously curious about it. Years of undying loyalty to Megatron meant persuasion was necessary to get the flier to go off on his own, but in the end, Megatron got his way.

He watched Soundwave disappear into the darkening sky and briefly wondered if he would ever see his—dare he say it?—friend again. Megatron shook the thought from his mind, transformed and flew fast and far.

* * *

_Megatron..._

Megaton strained to see through the heavy fog. Someone impossible was calling him.

_Megatron..._

"Optimus?"

_Have you forgotten me already, my friend?_

Megatron ran for the voice, but only found a heavier fog. It occurred to him that he had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. It also occurred to him that the voice he heard was not actually audible. It was more of an echo in the depths of his mind.

"Have you come to haunt me, Prime?"

The voice laughed and Megatron couldn't help smiling. He remembered the laugh of his librarian friend and felt... at peace.

_Cybertron is not yet free, my friend. There are still those who would see our beloved home destroyed._

"Why do you tell me these things?" It was as though living in a memory. The sudden desire to rise up and wage war, whether political or physical, in defense of freedom overwhelmed him.

_Cybertron still needs a leader..._

"I am not worthy, Optimus." Anger burned within his spark. "Because of me, our world is in ruin, our people divided, innocent lives destroyed, and you... You are lost to us."

_Are you still so pompous that you must take all the credit? _ The voice laughed. _Perhaps you truly are as naïve as you look._

Megatron laughed as he hadn't done since his days wandering the streets of Kaon with Orion Pax by his side. He felt something touch his shoulder, turned, and met the gaze of his long, lost friend. "I see the wit of Orion Pax has not been lost to you, Optimus. Not even in your passing."

"Are Orion and Optimus not one and the same, Megatron?"

Megatron smiled warmly at his friend. His brother. This was how they should have always been. Talking, laughing, jokingly insulting each other. How had he been so blind? Optimus was dead because he had been too prideful to admit his way of bringing about justification was flawed.

His smile faded. The Prime noticed.

"It was always meant to be this way, brother," Optimus began. "I can only hope that one day you will see that even in your darkest hour, there was hope. You brought about the circumstances that pushed a simple archivist to become a Prime. Even though you strayed from the path, you are still very much responsible for the abolition of the caste system and the dawning of Cyberton's new Golden Age. I only wish I could have seen this orchestration before..." His sentence trailed off as his attention seemed to be caught by something Megatron could not see.

The warlord longed to accept Optimus' words as true, but all he could see were the lives he crushed, the pain and destruction he had caused. The last unspoken conversation he and Optimus had had.

"Brother."

Megatron focused again on the echo of Optimus before him. He couldn't help smiling at the smirk that had seemed to make itself at home on the Prime's face.

"It would seem history has a way of repeating itself," he began, but was cut off by the gladiator's sudden burst of laughter. "Is something wrong?"

Megatron couldn't remember the last time he had felt so giddy. Seeing the ever serious Optimus Prime with the grin of a mischievous new build plastered across his facial plating had caused the vigorously bubbling spring of joy within him to overflow and overwhelm him to the point of idiocy.

He tried to gain control of his emotions, but one look at the Prime, who was now trying desperately not to laugh, and the two, war-hardened leaders became like Sparklings who had had a few too many energon treats.

Minutes passed and the laughter finally died down.

Megaton looked into Optimus optics, smiling contently. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

The Prime looked puzzled. "I..." Again he seemed to be focused on something just outside of Megatron's view. His face grew solemn. "Do you know that I have forgiven you?" he asked, focusing on his friend once more.

Megatron tensed. He wanted to look away.

"Megatron."

A pause. "How?" the gladiator whispered. "How could you forgive me?"

Optimus smiled. "I have. That's all that matters now."

Megatron returned the smile.

"Now, my friend, I haven't much time left. And there are many important things I wish to discuss with you." He paused to think. "Enemies will rise against Cybertron in the near future. There is one who will rise from the Well that will lead our brethren into battle once more. But without the Matrix of Leadership to bestow the wisdom of the ancients upon him, he will need someone to guide him down the right path."

The Prime waited for Megatron's response. When he received none, he continued. "I firmly believe that you would do well with this task, my friend. You lead me once. Though you did stray, you have found the path again. I ask that you become that which you were always meant to be and save Cybertron from the coming destruction."

Moments passed without sound or reaction. Finally, Megatron spoke. "You have more faith in me than I in myself." He looked away. "How will I know the Sparkling?"

"You will know." Optimus tilted his head. "Do not be so hard on yourself. There are plenty of others who, unfortunately, will take care of that for you."

Megatron nodded. "Is that it then?"

The Prime sighed. "For now," he answered sadly. "Learn from the past. This is a new world. A new beginning."

"I wish you could enjoy it with us."

Optimus placed a servo on Megatron's shoulder. He opened his mouth to speak, paused, closed it again.

The world began to fade.

"Good bye, Optimus," the ex-gladiator said, watching the Prime's bright blue optics wane to grey.

"Good bye, brother."

* * *

Megatron stood, listening to the sound of shuffling pedes outside. He placed a servo on the rusted wall of the dilapidated structure he was currently using for shelter. Surely Soundwave had not found him that easily.

The shuffling stopped and was abruptly followed by a clang. Megatron slowly stepped outside.

He was taken aback at the sight before him. Moving quickly, he carried the body back into the safety of his shelter, scanning the sky for threats as he did so.

He laid the beaten husk down on the slab he had been using as a berth and took in the sight.

Energon ran freely from the severed fuel lines. This mangled mech wouldn't survive much longer.

He placed a servo on the mech's open chest plate and attempted to pinch one of the fuel lines shut so as not to allow any more leaking.

"Soundwave." Megatron spoke quietly over the comm link. "See if you can find some medical supplies and come to my position at once."

A single ping let the warlord know he had been heard.

He looked back at the unconscious victim. Pangs of guilt stabbed at his spark.

The Seeker's armor had been savagely ripped from his body. Large gashes along his torso had exposed sensitive wiring, some of which had apparently been cut through. His left optic had been sliced open and both of his arms were crushed. But what really caught Megatron's attention, what caused him to shudder just slightly, were Starscream's wings. They simple weren't there anymore.

He had felt the jagged metal when he carried Starscream in, but only now did he realize what it was.

The claw marks on his body told Megatron what had happened. The Predacons had found the Seeker and taken their revenge. But ripping his wings from his body? Megatron had never allowed any of Starscream's punishments to go that far.

It had nothing to do with pain, embarrassment, humiliation. A Seekers wings were, well, they made him a Seeker. They were magnificent! So sensitive to even the slightest change in aerial vibrations. Megatron would admit it was a quality he envied. To have such a gift ripped from one's very back would not only be excruciatingly painful, but a fate worse than death.

Movement pulled Megatron from his thoughts. Starscream was waking.

"S-Sky..." His back arched and his mouth opened in a silent wail then his body went limp.

"Starscream." Megatron said perhaps a bit too harshly. "Starscream, stay awake."

The Seeker's optics flickered twice before shuttering off.

"Soundwave," the gladiator's voice rumbled angrily. "Forget the supplies. Get me a medic!"


	2. Chapter 2

Being an Autobot didn't change him all that much. He was still snarky, shrewd, egotistical, and maintained a rather large superiority complex. He schemed. He cheated. He lied. He put himself before others when not under the careful watch of Ultra Magnus. He took his role seriously, but didn't hesitate to milk it for all it was worth.

"Relax, Bumblebee, it's just a little once around the block. It's not like I'm deserting or anything."

The black and yellow mech looked apprehensive. "I don't know, Knock Out." He glanced back at the screens he was supposed to be monitoring. "You are the only _real_ medic on the planet. What if-"

"Precisely my point!" Knock Out's optics narrowed dangerously. "I slave day after day assessing, sorting and filing datawork. I spend every waking moment either under the extreme pressure of being sole physician on this planet while attempting to resurrect bots who should by all means be dead or wearing a smile on my face as I waste my time tending to the most menial repairs that even the halfwit trainees you and Magnus keep sending me could accomplish without a second thought!" He threw his arms up dramatically. "Speaking of which, who decided that a narcissistic medic such as myself—of Decepticon origin, I might add—was the best suited for instructing the new sparks in the medical profession? Why not bridge up that old crank-case of yours? Clearly he is more trustworthy than I, whom you 'Bots keep under constant surveillance even _after_ I have proved my loyalty time and time again!"

Bumblebee remained quiet as he waited for Knock Out to finish his ranting. It was annoying, but it was a part of who he was. Optimus would have accepted this fact with patience. Bumblebee was determined to do the same.

"How long will I be expected to play the part of a perfect, little Autobot slave before I am trusted to go on a simple drive without need of a babysitter? And furthermore, how exactly does keeping me on such a short leash imply your precious principals of freedom to the Newsparks? And wipe that smirk off your face before I do it for you!"

Knock Out huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, reminding Bumblebee of Miko when she didn't get her way. The scout turned warrior couldn't help grinning at his former foe.

Knock Out was funny.

"Sorry," he mumbled, attempting to take on a more solemn disposition. "You were saying?"

Knock Out frowned. "I was saying," he started with a growl. "You can't expect me to spend my life as your prisoner of war. I demand to be granted freedom equal to that of everyone else on this planet!"

A pause.

Bumblebee waited for Knock Out to continue. When he didn't, Bumblebee turned his attention back to the monitors. He placed his servos on the console and began searching for a specific file.

"Didn't you hear me?" Knock Out all but screamed.

Bumblebee smiled. He tapped the console and watched as an itinerary log popped up on the main screen, followed by a recent security feed of one red Aston Martin pulling up to the hospitals loading docks, transforming and sneaking in after a night of racing.

The yellow bot turned to face his colleague with a mischievous grin.

"Typically, when someone wants to be trusted they don't shirk their responsibilities, lie to their teammates or sneak out. All of which, you did."

Knock Out's brow furrowed angrily. "Typically, medics aren't reduced to overworked, underpaid slave laborers whose only means of clearing their mind is skipping their energon rations in order to slip out into the darkness of night for a ten minute drive."

Bumblebee shrugged and returned his attention to the monitors once more. "Drive, then."

Knock Out watched the young warrior cautiously. Drive? Just like that? No threats? No conditions? No favors? "What's your angle, bug?"

Bumblebee momentarily tensed at the nickname, but otherwise didn't show any signs of offence. He shook his helm. "No angle, Knock Out. You're right. You should be treated the way everyone else gets treated." He pulled up a new security feed and watched its contents with rapt interest. Knock Out leaned in to see what was happening, but before he could make out the scene Bumblebee had switched the feed again. Bumblebee glanced up at him. "But only if you're pulling your weight just like everyone else."

The medic rolled his optics. Not quite an angle, but pretty close by Autobot standards he supposed. "Fine, fine. I'll give a seminar on optical surgery or whatever." He spun on his heals and strutted out of the room, feeling as though he had accomplished some great task by convincing a Bot to let a Con run free for the day. And without any kind of reverse manipulation on Bumblebee's part.

* * *

"Hey, Doc! Wait up!"

Knock Out froze in place, optics widening in horror.

_No. No, no, no. He wouldn't! Would he?_

The orange and yellow Sparkling slid to a stop just barely ahead of him. He had grown a significant amount now that his frame was fully developed. A bit of a late bloomer, this one. He stood a full helm taller than Knock Out; his shoulders had broadened a bit, though he still maintained a sleek design.

"Hot Rod," he greeted, attempting to mask the irritation in his voice. It was a skill he had become quite good at over the past few months since Cybertron had been reborn. "What… What are you doing here?"

The Sparkling met his gaze and smiled excitedly. "Bee said you were going for a drive and I've been stuck in the record hall sorting files all day—well, I guess I'm not really stuck since I volunteered for it, but you know what I mean—and he said he thought it would be good for me to get out and Magnus never lets me do anything, but Bee said he would cover for me and- Mfft!"

Knock Out slapped a servo over the Sparkling's mouth and frowned. "Honestly, Hot Rod, you're as bad as that Blurr fellow sometimes." He removed his servo and crossed his arms over his chest. "So he did have an angle," the medic growled.

"What?"

Knock Out shot the Sparkling an icy glare. "I don't need a babysitter, Hot Rod. And I especially don't need a stupid, overactive Newspark tagging along to report every little thing I do!"

Hot Rod shuttered his optics. "But…" He looked confused. Not to mention a little hurt. "I'm not going to… Never mind," he said, offering a small smile and turning to leave.

Knock Out sighed. Ever since his first real conversation with the Sparkling, he had never been able to turn him away. "Wait."

Hot Rod spun on his heels, beaming. "I can come?"

Knock Out shrugged. "Sure. Whatever." He smirked. "Keep up, kid."

* * *

Soundwave considered his mission carefully. He did not know the nature of it. Only that Megatron had seemed agitated, almost panicked, when he had sent the request for immediate medical assistance. Soundwave started piecing together different scenarios that might render such a reaction, but then decided that such ideas were of no use to him at the moment and quickly put the thoughts to rest.

Where could he find a medic?

Naturally, of course, the Autobot CMO would be on earth for another couple orbital cycles, leaving Knock Out as Head of Medicine on Cybertron until his return.

Soundwave had learned their routines while trapped in the Shadowzone.

Knock Out would be the most qualified Cybertronian at the moment to deal with whatever ailment had befallen Megatron, but convincing him to lend aid now that he had deserted the Decepticon cause for the Autobot life might be a challenge. Soundwave would have to watch him carefully as he operated.

The spymaster flew high over the newly constructed hospital. It took only a second to link himself with the building's database. The Autobots really needed to work on their security systems. He patched into the mainframe and momentarily disrupted the sensors while he landed and entered from the top floor.

He traveled through three levels using the security feed to ensure he took routes that would keep his presence a secret, but found no sign of the former Decepticon doctor. He checked the logs twice, but could not find anything to convince him Knock Out was not still in the building. Then again, the medic had always had a tendency to run off without permission or notice. He scanned over the feeds of the day, finding nothing even remotely interesting, until he came across a small, red bot storming out the rear exit.

Soundwave navigated through the corridors until he found the main control room. There, after a quick shock and drop to the security drones, he was able to use the system to hack into the Autobots' super computer: Teletran 1. He replayed Megatron's message to himself as a reminder of his necessity for promptness and began combing through the mess of surveillance footage for the entirety of the populated city until he came across an image of his quarry leaving Autobot Headquarters with a Cybertronian Soundwave did not recognize racing after him.

A quiet pinging at the back of his mind managed to catch his attention.

Teletran 1 had detected the security breach and notified the Autobots. They would be arriving shortly.

Soundwave scrubbed his image from the mainframe, tore from the room and out the nearest exit.

Now to find Knock Out.

* * *

Heat.

That's all he knew.

The searing heat rippled through his frame, never giving him a moment's rest.

The world was blinking around him. In and out. In and out. He knew his body was moving. He might have even been speaking, or at least making noise, but it was all just a distant dream.

Heat. Awful, painful heat.

Someone was speaking to him.

Stay? Stay here?

Why would anyone want him to stay? No one wanted him around.

His wings hurt.

Don't? Now they didn't want him to stay?

He gasped and clawed at the ground below him. Was he on the ground? No. He was on a tower. He was at Darkmount.

No.

No, he wasn't at Darkmount anymore. He was in the ruins. He was on a berth.

How did he get here?

His vision returned, albeit blurry. Someone was standing over him. Someone familiar.

He was speaking.

Should he be afraid? Of course he should. He was supposed to be afraid.

So why wasn't he?

How did he get here?

The world faded again.

More talking. This time angrier. More desperate.

His wings hurt.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for how long this took. I went to Thailand in November, came home and rushed to get Christmas together, my grandmother was put in the hospital the day after my birthday and passed away at the beginning of January. And during all of this, I was trying to do life and find another job. So yeah, fun couple months there. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this next chapter.**

* * *

"In your face!" cackled the Sparkling, screeching to a halt and transforming to bipedal mode. "You said I couldn't beat you! You said I'd never be faster than you! You said no one could ever show you up, but check me out!" He hopped around in some kind of ridiculous victory dance, pointing at the stalled car who had just barely managed to keep up with him after taking the last few turns too wide.

Knock Out growled.

"I let you win, Newspark."

Hot Rod deflated. "Nuh-uh." His brow furrowed in confusion and annoyance.

"Totally did," the Medic lied. He transformed, crossed his arms over his chest. "Anyway, it wasn't even a real race."

"That's not what you said when you were pulling ahead," Hot Rod mumbled.

Knock Out glared at him.

"So, what are we doing out her, Doc bot?"

Knock Out's expression softened and he lifted his arms into a long stretch. "What are we doing, my little Sparkling? We're relaxing in the ruins of a war-torn town where no one can bother us for the rest of the day." He strutted over to a pile of twisted, melted metal and reclined against it, closing his optics and sighing contently.

Hot Rod looked around. "I thought this was a quick trip then back to work kind of thing."

Knock Out cracked open an optic and smirked. "Since when have I ever taken a 'quick trip' when it comes to getting out of work?"

Hot Rod shrugged and began walking farther into the city.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Exploring."

Knock Out watched the Sparkling disappear around the corner and frowned. "He's fine, Knock Out," the Medic mumbled. "He's not stupid like the rest. He won't get into anything. He'll stay close."

It was quiet.

"Hot Rod!"

Silence.

Knock Out jumped to his pedes and ran in the direction the Sparkling had gone. "Hot Rod!" No sign of him. He was quick, that was for sure.

A shadow fell over the Medic. He looked up, optics widening in horror, and jumped out of the way just as a certain, silent mech crashed down in the place he had been standing.

"S-Soundwave?" Knock Out looked around. Still no sign of Hot Rod. "B-but, you're… You were… I thought… Why are you here?"

The lithe mech turned to look at him, expression blank and terrifying as ever. His visor lit up as he played back an audio clip. "Get me a medic."

Knock Out froze. "Lord Megatron? I… I can't help him."

Soundwave tensed. His data collectors fell from his chest and rose slowly into the air.

"I-I mean… I'm with the Autobots now. I have to report in to them and… and…" Movement in the distance. Was that?

_No. No. No!_

There, a ways away, hiding behind a crumbling wall, two large, blue optics stared back at him in fear. Thank the Allspark he had enough sense to stay hidden!

Soundwave stepped closer to the Medic.

Knock Out, in turn, stepped back. "Look, Soundwave, if you could just convince Megatron to turn himself in, I would be more than willing to help him in any way I can, but…"

Knock Out's optics widened in horror as he watched the Newspark approach Soundwave from behind, gnarled pole in hand and raised to strike. Time seemed to stand still for the Medic as he considered his options. He could let Hot Rod attack and use the distraction to escape. However, that would mean certain death for the youngling.

The Autobots wouldn't take that well.

He could attack Soundwave with Hot Rod. They might stand a chance and if—and that was a very big if—they survived, bagging the communications chief would certainly earn him some brownie points.

He could call for backup, but that would mean admitting his mistake in going against protocol and facing the wrath of Ultra Magnus.

There really was no victory in this, was there?

Soundwave turned to look at what had startled the ex-Decepticon. He tensed and raised his cables to strike.

Knock Out was pulled from his thoughts and, in a moment of sheer stupidity, unleashed his saw and lunged at his former superior. He yelled at Hot Rod to run back to Autobot headquarters before dropping to the ground as an agonizing jolt of electricity tore through his frame.

His system shut down and he was only vaguely aware of the severed data collector by his helm.

The Autobots would never believe him.

* * *

Hot Rod felt like his body was in some kind of stasis lock. He couldn't move. He could only watch as the mysterious mech wrapped his remaining tentacle around his fallen friend and transformed, carrying Knock Out away through the air.

Move. He had to move.

"Doc?"

He watched Knock Out's limp form disappear into the darkening sky.

"I know you told me to go back," Hot Rod said, a look of determination on his face. "But you never follow orders," he transformed and sped in the direction the strange mech had gone. "So why should I?"

* * *

They watched in silence as they always did. They observed. They learned. They planned.

Long had they waited for Cybertron to be reborn. To spawn new life.

It seemed the day had finally come.

They could feel the planet growing stronger. Refugees returned every day. Newsparks were being discovered constantly. Cities were being rebuilt.

And the bloodlust of war still ravaged the minds of the planet's inhabitance.

Good.

That would make their infiltration all the more interesting.

They had lost track of their quarry for a time, but when Unicron began his awakening at the blue planet's core, they were pleased to return to their hunt.

The Prime was gone now. Pity. He would have made an excellent trophy.

And Megatron… Well, he was a mere shell of his former self.

The rebirth of the Predacons had been unexpected. They remembered the race all too well and would have to be wary of their heightened senses and primitive instincts. Still, Predaking would be an excellent catch and quite entertaining to watch in the pits.

There were growing restless now that their time was drawing near. More and more often did they have to remind themselves to stay hidden.

Could they take conquer now? Most certainly. The Cybertronians were still recovering from their war, but that could cause problems.

At the moment, they were far too loyal to each other due to their desire to rebuild their planet.

But unrest could always be found if one looked hard enough. And once the waters were stirred, they would not settle easily.

They would have their slaves soon enough.

* * *

Megatron was growing impatient. Where was Soundwave? Starscream wouldn't last much longer.

He considered the situation. How often had he beaten Starscream within an inch of his life? How often had he watched as his personal medics rushed to stabilize him? How often had Starscream pulled through?

Why was he so concerned, after all his attempts to exterminate the insufferable cretin, that Starscream might not make it?

Megatron pinched several major fuel lines shut, though it didn't stop the steady streams of energon from trickling out of the many gouges in his frame.

Starscream would occasionally online his optics. They would widen in agony before dimming and quickly blinking out.

"Soundwave," he growled over his comm. link. "Where are you?"

He heard something outside of his shelter and tensed. "Soundwave?"

There was a soft whoosh and then silence.

Starscream stirred. His optics seemed to focus on Megatron.

"Starscream?" The tyrant scolded himself mentally for not at least attempting to soften his voice.

The Seeker winced at the harshness of his voice. "M-my…" His gaze fell to the warlord's hands in his chest and he gasped and tried desperately to get away.

Megatron, not wanting to release the fuel lines, leaned over and used his own weight to pin Starscream down. He glared darkly at Starscream and hissed, "Do not move."

Starscream stilled and Megatron could tell he was fighting to stay conscious.

"M-mega…tron…"

"Stay still, Starscream."

"M-my… wings…"

Megatron tensed. "Soundwave will be coming with a Medic soon."

"W-where?"

"It used to be a bar."

Starscream tried to look around, but even trying to move his head brought wave of burning pain to his frame. "Did you…"

"No." Megatron straightened, taking his weight off the Seeker. Starscream relaxed and it occurred to Megatron that being pinned in his condition had probably been extremely painful. "I found you outside."

The Seekers optics darted. "Predacons…"

Megatron could hear the sound of an aircraft approaching outside. A single ping over his comm. told him that help had finally come.

A mass of bright red fell through the doorway, moaning as it attempted to regain consciousness. Knock Out pushed himself to his pedes and rubbed his helm. He looked around, confused, until his optics landed on Megatron.

He jumped back and stutter, "M-Megatron, er, lord Megatron. I, uh, I just, uh…"

Soundwave stepped behind him and gave him a hard shove in Megatron's direction, knocking him to his knees again.

"Soundwave," Megatron growled. "What is the meaning of this?"

Soundwave replayed his audio clip. "Get me a medic." He then gestured to Megatron, who clearly was not in need of medical attention, and repeated, "What is the meaning of this?"

Megatron shifted to the side, allowing both mechs to see the state of their former Air Commander.

"Whoa," Knock Out said, once more pushing himself up.

Soundwave tilted his helm. Where were Starscream's wings?

* * *

Ultra Magnus' fist hit the table hard. "Of all the incompetent, irresponsible, reckless-" he cut himself off and just glared at the black and yellow bot in front of him. Bumblebee remained silent, studying the table in an obvious attempt not to make eye contact with the Commander. "What could you have possibly been thinking, soldier? You allowed Knock Out, who is in no way trust worthy, to go joy riding and sent the Sparkling, Rodimus, who is still at an impressionable stage of development, to go with him. Can you even comprehend how senseless that was?"

Bumblebee did not answer.

"Er, Ultra Magnus, sir?" interrupted the smaller, blue mech, peaking his helm through the door.

The Commander glared at him. "What is it now, Blurr?"

"Well-not-trying-to-interrupt-seeing-as-how-you-seem-so-busy-with-dishing-out-punishment-to-unsuspecting-bots-who-could-have-in-no-way-guessed-the-outcome-of-their-choices-considering-that-said-bot's-parolee-was-showing-such-improvement-in-his-commitment-to-his-occupation-and-responsibilities-but-a-bit-of-a-problem-has-come-up-well-it's-not-a-problem-per-say-but-more-of-a-hiccup-and-we-well-Perceptor-thought-you-should-know-about-it-personally-the-rest-of-us-don't-think-it's-such-a-big-deal-considering-how-banged-up-some-of-our-equipment-is-but-we-sent-the-information-to-Ratchet-for-him-to-look-at-and-Perceptor-is-kind-of-angry-at-us-for-doing-that-I-don't-know-why-I-mean-don't-you-typically-want-other's-opinions-on-things-like-this?"

"Blurr," Magnus growled.

The speedster paused, collecting his thoughts. "Right… So-there's-this-weird-phenomenon-going-on-with-some-of-the-scanners-that-make-it-seem-like-there's-well-something-lurking-around-out-there," he gestured toward the back wall. "We-don't-know-what-it-is-and-the-energy-signature-is-really-strange-kind-of-ancient-and-it-blips-in-and-out-and-shows-up-sporadically-on-our-maps-and," he looked at Bumblebee. "Really-though-I'm-sure-Knock-Out-and-Hot-Rod-will-show-up-any-click-now." Back to Magnus: "And-then-there-are-also-these-random-attacks-that-have-been-occurring-at-one-of-our-landing-ports-but-no-one's-been-injured-to-the-point-of-death-just-some-minor-mauling-which-is-in-no-way-okay-but-it-happens-I-mean-we've-been-at-war-for-how-long-now-but-that's-still-no-reason-for-the-attacks-and-severing-limbs-does-seem-a-little-extreme-now-that-I'm-thinking-about-it."

"Whoa! Time out!" Bumblebee shouted. "Severing limbs? Minor mauling?" He looked back at Ultra Magnus horrifically. "Are you hearing this?"

Ultra Magnus rose from where he was seated, using his desk to support himself until his struts steadied. His recovery from the Predacon attack had been slow and painful and he had refused to accept the parts needed to repair his own legs when there were still so many others in need of help. Ratchet had put up a fight with him on that subject, but he eventually gave in, leaving Magnus in the hands of their "completely capable, ex-con medic" and returned to earth.

He took a cane in his good servo and slowly walked out of the room.

Bumblebee fell in behind the Commander. Though slow and handicapped, he was still completely capable of taking control of a room and striking fear into the sparks of all those around.

Ultra Magnus limped down the hall, toward the control room, optics set and frame tense. Blurr and Bumblebee were silent. He could feel them staring at him.

"Blurr, where have these assaults taken place?"

The small, blue mech perked up and jumped to the Autobot Commander's side. "Mostly-in-and-around-Praxis-Commander-the-Praxians-are-pouring-in-without-stop-and-that's-making-it-pretty-difficult-to-isolate-which-groups-would-be-causing-the-chaos-but-you-can-bet-they're-of-the-Decepticon-fold-and-that's-not-the-only-place-we've-had-a-few-more-recent-reports-coming-from-Kalis-I-sent-Smokescreen-to-investigate-being-that-it's-so-much-closer-but-he-ended-up-skipping-Kalis-completely-and-going-straight-to-Praxis-but-I-guess-I-can't-really-blame-him-since-that-was-his-home-and-his-Spark-grew-with-those-bots-but-he-still-disobeyed-an-order-but-given-the-situation-I-don't-care-to-press-it-"

"Blurr!"

The speedster fell silent.

"Do you think it's the Predacons?" Bumblebee asked.

Magnus shook his helm. "I'm sure we would have been informed if the beasts were to blame. They are hard to miss, even in a busy landing port."

Bumblebee sighed. "It's not right. The war is over. We won! Why can't people just accept that and go on living their lives in peace?"

Ultra Magnus glanced back at him. "Just because Megatron has abandoned his cause does not mean the fighting will stop. I'm afraid a war that lasted over six million years will not be given up so easily. We must stay strong, stay alert and stay on top of all criminal activity is we want our age of peace to grow and last."

The black and yellow nodded. "Um… Do we have any idea which direction Knock Out and Hot Rod might have gone?"

Blurr nodded, answering slowly. "They were headed east of Kalis."

"Not far from the nearest attacks," Bumblebee mumbled, a guilty look on his face.

Ultra Magnus huffed. They had finally reached the control room.

* * *

Predaking's optics opened suddenly. Something had disturbed his powerdown. He looked around the throne room of Darkmount, but saw nothing.

A gentle breeze blew over him. His wings twitched.

Rising, he silently walked to the edge of structure and swept his gaze over the ruins he and his Predacons had come to call home.

He could see nothing out of place.

A low growl escaped his maw and a strange feeling crept into his mind. He raised his wings instinctually, making himself look even bigger than he was. His body tensed and he hissed at the silence.

Something wasn't right.

He crept around the throne room. He watched. He listened.

Nothing happened.

Transforming, he growled once more at the emptiness.

"I am being hunted."

Even the wind stood still.


	4. Chapter 4

Night had fallen, engulfing the city in a blanket of darkness. Few Cybertronians roamed the streets at this time, preferring instead to tuck themselves away in the safety of their quarters while chatting with long lost friends over the comm. system. And for those who did choose to brave the outside world, there was still the threat of structurally unsound buildings toppling over if hit in the wrong way, small swarms of Scraplets which had yet to be exterminated and the planet's resident Predacons who could occasionally be spotted stalking an innocent refugee for the sake of having some fun.

For these reasons, the Autobots had sent out security teams to patrol the streets in search of potential dangers. They did not force any kind of curfew, as had once ruled them in the caste system, but simply stated the facts and advised citizens to be wary of whatever might lurk in the shadows.

"YOW!"

First Aid spun around with wide optics. "What? Where is it?"

The grey-green mech shoved him out of the way with a scoff. "Cool it, kid. I just stepped in a puddle of acid from todays storm."

First Aid sighed. "Be more careful of where you step, Kup. You could easily injure yourself out here and I can't imagine how you would get along if you were berth ridden for a few orns."

Kup shot him a glare. "Oh, excuse me for not having the perfect optics of a Sparkling on my corroded carcass."

"I'm not a Sparkling," the Protectobot responded with the slightest hint annoyance. "I am simply concerned for your well being."

"My well being? Kid, I've been disassembled and reassembled by a bunch of Junkions, eaten and regurgitated by a space slug, and babysat a Dinobot for a couple centuries."

"You?" First Aid said with a smirk. "And a Dinobot? I can't imagine that being a good idea."

Kup smirked back. "Reckless as a wrecker, too."

First Aid paused. "Sorry, Kup. I just have a hard time-"

"You accusing me of lying, kid?" Kup shoved his arm in the younger's face. "See those scars? Teeth of a Dinobot." He reached down to his right knee and popped the joint out of place. "That happened when he decided to sit on me."

First Aid suppressed the urge to roll his optics. "Right."

The green mech frowned. "Fine. Don't wanna believe me?" He turned around and pointed to his rear. "Take a gander at that."

The Protectobot yelped and jumped back, immediately covering his optics. "Okay, okay! I believe you! I believe you!"

Kup turned back, laughing heartily.

First Aid glanced at the old mech, shuddered and turned away. "I can never unsee that."

"Are you two done yet?" Arcee asked as she approached. "I could hear you all the way back at the old emergency outpost."

"Don't get your gears wound up, femme-bot. It's not like there's anybody recharging tonight. We got enough of that in the stasis pods on the way here." The tow truck rose to his pedes with a groan, popping several joints back into place.

"I realize you've seen and been through a lot, Kup," Arcee started, "But I'm not sure you fully comprehend how serious this situation is. The Predacons are perhaps one of the biggest threats posed to returning Cybertronians at the moment. We need to be on the alert at all times."

"On the alert for Preds and hunting Scraplets," First Aid stated. "We'd cover more ground if we split up."

Arcee thought to herself for a moment. Nodded. "Take Kup with you. He probably knows more about dealing with Scraplets than anyone else on this planet."

The older mech's optics sparkled. "Do I know about Scraplets?" He laughed, transformed, trailed along beside the ambulance. "Have I ever told you about the time at the start of the war when the Cons dropped a Scraplet trap on my squadron?"

Arcee smiled to herself as she watched her team fade into the night. It was good to be back on Cybertron, though she did find herself missing Earth pretty regularly. Her spark now belonged to two worlds and, oddly enough, she found that she was okay with the constant sense of longing for home. She would visit Earth soon enough, but for now she had a job to do.

Transforming back to vehicle mode she began her trek down the long, empty streets of New Kaon. It was hard to believe that this had once been the capitol of the Decepticon army. Filled with life and a new sense of hope, it was shining and growing more and more every day.

She was pulled from her thought by an odd scraping sound to her right up ahead. She slowed and transformed to bipedal, preparing her weapons as she approached a narrow alley.

Careful. Careful. Careful.

She turned the corner and charged her blasters. "Who's there?"

Silence.

Arcee forced herself to relax. "Just my imagination," she mumbled. "Better safe than sorry." She took a few more steps into the alleyway, feeling an alarming sense of paranoia settling over her. Something was here. And it was watching her.

She froze. Backed away. Maybe calling for backup was a good idea.

Another scraping sound reached her audials from farther up the road. Her spark raced. What was that?

She quietly made her way to the next alley, steeling her nerves. "It's nothing," she told herself. After a pause she stepped into the darkness, searching for whatever had made the noise.

Nothing.

She spun around toward the road just in time to see a figure duck behind the corner of the building.

"Hey," she called. "Who's there?"

A shuffling noise and then the sound of pedes clanging along the metal road in a sprint seemed awfully suspicious to the two-wheeler. Against her better judgment, she pursued.

"Stop! I just want to know your name!"

The figure pause up ahead to look back at her, then darted down another street.

He was fast.

Arcee transformed in an attempt to keep up. She chased him for several minutes, taking random turns and switching from vehicle to bipedal and back again several times in order to navigate the maze of dilapidated buildings.

She came to a screeching halt after clearing the edge of the city. She stood and once again readied her blasters.

Far ahead the figure had come to a stop. He stood still as a statue, a dark shadow in the distance with two glowing optics staring directly at her. She felt her spark race once more.

"Who are you?" she called.

The figure glanced to his left, raising a servo to point at some sort of mass beside him then turned and walked away.

Arcee waited until she couldn't see the figure anymore before making her way to the object pointed out to her. She scanned the area and, finding no other life signatures near her, bent down to get a better look.

"I really should call for backup," she told herself.

Taking the mass in both servos, she gave a few good pulls and popped the top off of-

"Scrap."

Hundreds of blue orbs sparked to life as a swarm of Scraplets fixed their sights on the two-wheeler. They dropped their jaws and bolted from their stasis pod and onto the frame of their prey.

Arcee screamed and fired randomly in an attempt to scare the little pests away, but to no avail. They clamped down on her arms, legs and torso, pushing her to the ground.

Arcee kicked and shrieked as she felt her leg slowly being chewed through. To her horror, a couple of Scraplets flew at her faceplate and sunk their teeth into the side of her helm.

She could feel her frame being engulfed in a pool of her own energon. Her vision blurred and her body felt heavy. This was it. This was the end.

The sky was suddenly illuminated with a bright, orange light as an unnerving warmth flooded Arcee's body. A warmth that quickly became unbearably hot.

The Scraplets abandoned their meal and flew into the sky. They looped around and came careening back toward the injured Autobot, engulfed in a blast of bright light.

Arcee blinked. It wasn't light. It was fire. And the Scraplets weren't flying; they were falling.

One by one they rained down to the ground around her, some making impact with her bruised frame.

She groaned, fighting to stay alert. Someone shrieked behind her.

No. It was a roar.

She forced her optics to focus as a massive head appeared above her. Two yellow orbs peered down at her with such fierce animosity that she couldn't still the tremble that shook her.

Her vision blurred again and then her world turned black.

* * *

Megatron found himself pacing on occasion. Not because he was worried, no. He simply was letting his mind wander and that made him restless. He had always loathed the feeling of being confined to one area as he was now. It reminded him of his days spent in the mines of Kaon.

He needed to release some frustration.

"Hold him down!" Knock Out demanded. Cauterizing wounds was much more difficult without anesthetics to keep an already hysteric patient still.

Starscream thrashed about from the pain that came with being prodded, a look of sheer terror in his fading optics. His mouth opened in protest, though his vocalizer refused any sound from escaping.

Soundwave moved to pin the Seeker with his remaining tentacles, careful not to cause anymore damage to his frame.

Megatron watched on in rueful silence. He had once sought to free Cybertron from the oppression of the elite cast, yet now that his eyes had been opened, all he found was destruction and agony in his wake.

He did not pity Starscream, per se. The wounded flier was an opportunist from the beginning. He cared only for himself, took too much pride in his own accomplishments, failed to recognize his shortcomings and did not take the time to consider how his actions might affect the bigger picture.

He was not so unlike Megatron himself and could easily be considered the embodiment of the chaos and corruptions the warlord had brought upon the citizens of his world.

He did not pity Starscream. He pitied Cybertron. And perhaps, even more so, himself.

Knock Out gripped the remains of what had once been Starscream's wings and forced him down. "Starscream, you have to listen to me. You're losing energon too fast. I can't help you unless you stay still!"

Megatron was pulled from his thoughts by swooshing sound outside. His optics narrowed. "Who's out there?"

* * *

He opened his optics, still humming the tune in his head. It was time. He had been given one mission. One purpose. And now he could finally see it through.

_Hurry, hurry, little mechs and femmes_

_You've not much time to learn our plans_

_Be ready to fight a war from within_

_Trust your enemies and kill your friends_

He had already started putting the game into motion. He did not know why he was so anxious to accomplish his task, but every moment spent waiting for the next move had become agony to him.

_You thought you were safe, but see you were wrong_

_You shall fall and perish at our song_

_There is no hope, no Prime to save_

_We shall laugh as we dance upon your grave_

His frame shook in anticipation. The command would come. He just had to wait.

_The time is soon. You all will see_

_The enemy was never who you thought it to be_

_Now Newspark and old alike will fall_

_Enslaved you will be to your master's call_

* * *

**What is happening here?**


	5. Chapter 5

**I may or may not have forgotten I was writing this... Oops.**

* * *

First Knock Out and Hot Rod disappeared, then Smokescreen went AWOL, now Arcee was missing and there was a puddle of energon just outside of New Kaon where she had been on patrol. Not to mention a rebellion among refugees was beginning to break out. This was not turning out to be a good day for Bumblebee.

He had petitioned Ultra Magnus to let him scout around Kalis for any signs of what might have happened to his wards. Someone had to check out the uprising anyway, he had said. It wouldn't hurt for him to head out.

Magnus hadn't been keen on allowing him to leave after his earlier mistakes, but he eventually agreed to it.

Bumblebee had spent half the day tracking Knock Out and Hot Rod, his sense of urgency turning into that of frustration. Maybe nothing bad had happened. Maybe they were just shirking their responsibilities by going into hiding.

He drove through the wreckage of the war-torn outcroppings of Kalis, feeling his spark begin to settle as he found no sign of a struggle. Knock Out and Hot Rod must really be safe. It was the first time he had ever been thankful for the ex-Con's disregard for protocol. He imagined his wards racing out in the open landscape, far away from any feud that might be starting in or around the city.

He turned a sharp corner and dared a sigh of relief. Though he immediately regretted it.

The warrior scout slid to a stop and transformed, optics wide and mouth agape. He bent to one knee and ran a digit over a drying pool of energon, no more than a day old. He looked around and found a disturbingly familiar object lying on the ground ahead of him.

He stood and lifted a servo to activate his comm. "Bumblebee to base," he said. He walked over to the object and picked it up to get a closer look. "What is the status of our interdimentional prisoner?" He waited for a reply and frowned at what he heard.

Soundwave had escaped and Bumblebee knew he now held one of the Spymaster's tentacle-like cables in his hand.

"Patch me through to Ultra Magnus." He waited. "Sir, I think I've got a lead on Knock Out and Hot Rod. I found signs of a struggle on the outskirts of Kalis. I believe Soundwave escaped the Shadowzone and abducted them. For what reason, I don't know. Yet."

"Abducted?" Magnus grumbled quietly. "What reason do we have to believe that Knock Out himself didn't betray us?"

Bumblebee frowned. "Knock Out wouldn't betray us."

"You're sure?" Bumblebee could practically hear his eyebrow arch.

"I…" He looked around at the decimated town, a deep pain rising from within his spark. All the chaos. All the destruction. The pain. The deception. All that the war had cost them came crashing down on his spark in that moment. Trust seemed so farfetched in the midst of the cruel aftermath. And yet… "I would stake my life on it, sir. I'll find Knock Out and I'll prove he's on our side." Because really, what else was there for him to do? He was an Autobot soldier who had practically been raised by the late Optimus Prime. Faith, hope and trust, even when dealing with a former Decepticon, was the only option.

Magnus grunted on the other side of the comm. "Very well. Watch your six, soldier. I don't need to remind you that Megatron is still out there somewhere."

"I'll be careful," Bumblebee replied, the hint of a smile on his face as he cut the comm. The commander was finally starting to soften up to him. See there? Hope. It was the Autobot way.

He transformed and sped after the trail.

* * *

Knock Out was lost in his work. He had pretty much stripped Starscream of what was left of his armor in order to get to all the leaking energon tubes in his endoskeleton and solder them shut before his levels reached critical. At the same time, he had both himself and Soundwave patched into Starscream's main fuel lines for a steady transfusion of energon to keep him online enough for Soundwave to integrate his mind with Starscream's system in order to relay his vitals to the Medic, since they didn't exactly have the proper equipment in the shabby, half collapsed bar.

Knock Out kept an optic on Starscream's spark. It would be dim one second, bright enough to illuminate every crevice of the chassis around it the next second and almost non-existent after that. All due to pain, of course. Knock Out had to leave the majority of Starscream's pain receptors active in order to get a proper diagnostic from his system and he hadn't had any anesthetics on him when he was abducted to at least ease the sensation of being taken apart.

He could only imagine the agony Starscream was going through as he fought to get him stabilized.

Why was he working so hard, anyway? Why did he have this need to save his former Commander's life?

He brushed the thought aside as he focused his attention on his work.

Knock Out took a second to glance at the energon drying in the joints of his servos. Starscream's energon mixed with his own as well as Soundwave's. It was odd to think that, after Megatron's rejection of the Decepticon cause, his own defect to the Autobot side and Soundwave's tortured alienation in the Shadowzone, here they stood over a dying Starscream, the traitor of all traitors, relentlessly working and eager to restore his life.

And that was when Knock Out realized Megatron was no longer in the room. There was a gasp outside and before the Medic's optics could fully widen at the realization of what was happening, a garishly bright, yellow and orange body flew through the door and slammed into the opposite wall.

"Hot Rod?" the Medic whispered. "No, no, no."

Megatron stepped into the room with a huff, optics dangerously narrow. He reached his right arm over his chest and pulled a jagged piece of debris from his left shoulder. "I won't ask a second time," he growled. "Who are you?"

The younger bot returned Megatron's glare with full force. "I don't owe you any explanation." He pushed himself up. "Give Knock Out back and no one will get hurt."

Knock Out's jaw dropped. _Really? Are you really that stupid?_

Megatron let out a howling laugh and smirked at the Sparkling. "If you're trying to intimidate me, you'll have to try harder. Do you even know who I am? I am-"

"Megatron," Hot Rod finished. "Emperor of destruction, dark lord of the Decepticons, gladiatorial champion of Kaon and big, fat, horn headed loser to the Autobots. What've you been doing out here in the wastelands? Crying yourself to sleep?"

Knock Out swore his spark ceased functioning in that moment. He hurried to finish sealing the last of the leaks, ripped the energon catheter from his own fuel line, vaulted over Starscream's body and hit Hot Rod in a tackle to knock him out of the way as Megatron's fist met with the wall he had previously been leaning again.

"Wait!" the Medic yelled. "Wait, wait, stop. This just- Please, everyone just stop."

Megatron glared at him, but didn't move to attack.

Knock Out shot a glance at Soundwave. He stood by the downed Seeker, continuing to monitor his vitals while his own energon siphoned through a tube in his arm and into Starscream. He, too, watched in a tense stance yet did not move away from his station.

"The war…" Knock Out started. "The Decepticons. You said they were no more. So why fight? Why continue? We're home. We can start again." He pushed Hot Rod farther away.

The Sparkling pushed back. "I'm not afraid, Doc."

"Shut up, you idiot," Knock Out hissed. Back to Megatron: "He means no harm, really. Please… Please don't hurt him."

Megatron stared at him. "I have no intention of refueling the war, Knock Out. Just as I have no desire to be affiliated with the Decepticons." His voice took a sadder tone. "Though we both know that cannot be avoided. As for your friend meaning no harm…" He held out the shard of metal that had been jutting from his shoulder and dropped it on the floor. "I warn you, young one, do not be so quick to start a fight. Courage and stupidity are divided by a very fine line."

Hot Rod, still glaring at the warlord, stepped around Knock Out and boldly strode to the shard. He snatched it off the ground shoved it back at Megatron's face. "I didn't do this. You threw me into a wall, but I didn't do this." He dropped the shard and stomped back to Knock Out. "The Bots'll be looking for us, Doc. We should-"

And that was when the shard exploded.

* * *

"Don't look at me like that," he said. "I know you didn't want me to come back, but I got you out of there, right?"

No answer.

"I could have let you blow up."

A moan.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. You're always right. I wouldn't have let that happen. But, come on, were you really just going to leave me? After all the stuff we went through?"

His optics flickered on and off.

"Okay, Screamer. Get some rest. You're stable now. We'll talk when you wake back up."

"Sk… Sky…"

Skywarp frowned at the twisted form of his Trine leader in his arms. "I'm here, Screamer."

"Skywarp…" His voice was barely a whisper. "Th… Thank… you…"

Skywarp smiled. "Go to sleep, Starscream."

* * *

His optics sparkled under the dancing stars. Everything was falling into place. Or falling out of place, depending on how you looked at it. They had started all kinds of little revolts throughout the port cities. Uprisings of rebellion against the Autobots judicial system.

Naturally, such things would have happened anyway, but he had rather enjoyed being a part of it.

He sniffed at the air and growled. Something out there was bothering him. Something familiar and yet completely foreign. He tried to pinpoint the scent, but was quickly put on the ground by a brain-scrambling shriek from the implant in his head.

After a few minutes, the painful sound stopped and he pushed himself to his feet once more.

"Remember the mission," a deep voice said behind him.

He didn't need to turn to see who it was. He had heard the voice before, but more than anything, he knew the scent.

"Don't tell me what to do," he hissed.

The other mech only grinned at him. "I know someone who will be happy to see you."

He tilted his helm. "Who?"

"Soundwave," the mech said with a laugh.

He grinned back. "You know where he is?"

The mech reached down to pat him on the head. "I'll take you to him, if you'd like. I can't wait to see his face when his precious Ravage is returned to him."

The cat laughed. "Let's rip a camera of some newsbot's head first. I want to have a copy of his reaction when I tear his visor off."

"I do love serving our masters with you, Ravage," the mech said with a smirk.

"Likewise, Thundercracker. Likewise."

* * *

**Okay. Now to work on the next part so this thing can get moving.**


End file.
